Netflix Novacaine
by fleurofthecourt
Summary: Something seems off with Cas. Dean can't peg it, not exactly, but he's been acting strange. And, yeah, Cas is a weird guy, but this - this is something else. [Post 11 x 06, Cas/Dean].


A/N: In an alternate universe where Dean and Cas at least attempt to have a healthy conversation about what's going on with them right now...

* * *

Something seems off with Cas. Dean can't peg it, not exactly, but he's been acting strange. And, yeah, Cas is a weird guy, but this - this is something else.

So, a couple of hours after he and Cas have their ten minute staring contest over the war room table, he thinks, maybe, that he should ask why he let Metatron go.

And, yeah, Cas said Metatron was human, and, supposedly, harmless. But, that's not it. At least, that's not all of it. Dean feels it in his gut the way he knows that Cas knows he's lying about Amara.

So he goes to find Cas, and he's in Sam's room, staring stoically at the television, his overcoat and suit jacket lying on the bed, his sleeves and collar unbuttoned, and his hair rumpled from leaning against the headboard.

It's all wrong somehow. Not Cas.

He steps carefully over the doorframe, and Cas doesn't even look up, so he waves his hand in front of his eyes. "Hey, Earth to Cas!"

Cas blinks several times before looking away from the screen. He doesn't turn the TV off or even pause it, so Dean takes the liberty of doing so himself.

"Hey," he repeats, more gently. And Cas rolls his eyes, with his entire head. Dean doesn't know how he does that. But he does."What do you want, Dean?"

And Dean knows he's going to get even more pissy when he mentions Metatron, so he decides to skirt it, at least a little longer, "Wanted to, uh, make sure you were steering clear of daytime talk shows. Sticking to the good stuff."

"You turned the television off," Cas points out, utterly unimpressed.

"Okay. Fine. Metatron," Dean says pointedly, and Cas immediately swivels back to the television, turning it back on. The rhythmic introduction to Sense8 plays in the background, but he still presses, "You said you put him in traction. You probably could have killed him..."

Cas' eyes bore into the screen, like he wants to physically push himself into it, and Dean stops himself from saying anything else. Because Cas is frigging shaking. And suddenly, weirdly, he feels like he's spooking a skittish deer.

So instead, he pats the other side of the bed, "Mind if I join you? For an episode or two?"

Cas nods, still not looking up. Dean sighs and settles in next to him before letting himself get sucked in. After the whole nonsense with Amara, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want this kind of escapism himself. He can give in to the siren call too, at least temporarily.

But the way Cas is doing it? That's... Dean still doesn't know what it is. But he thinks he's getting warmer.

He's noticing, now that he's looking for it, that Cas is tensing up whenever the show starts getting violent. Whenever anyone starts to fight.

Three episodes in, positive that there's a pattern, Dean pauses the opening credits, despite Cas' protest that they can't leave it there, and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Talk to me."

Cas tenses up again, the way he had during the show, and Dean's stomach twists unpleasantly. Whatever Cas is dealing with here, he's definitely a part of it. "What's going on with you?"

"You still want to know about Metatron?" He doesn't sound angry, exactly, but there's an edge to it. One that says if Dean pushes, they're going right back to their standoff. Metatron for Amara.

"No...Yes? I don't know. Look, since Rowena lifted that hex off you, you've barely left the bunker, and you're kind of turning into a Netflix zombie. I want to know why."

"Do you want me to leave?" Cas asks. It's too careful, and Dean winces. Because that's not it. At all.

"No, I want you here. Believe me. But, uh, think you could use a little more fresh air than you're getting...so, uh...how about me and you? How about we go for a drive or something?"

Instinctively, before he seems to even realize what he's doing, Cas reaches for the remote, and Dean catches his hand. He starts to tug him off the bed, and Cas' breathing noticeably speeds up. There's genuine fear in his eyes when he admits, "I...I can't."

"You can't?" Dean repeats.

"The bunker, I...I can't leave."

He shakes his head, and Dean rubs slow circles against the back of his hand. "Why not? You went after Metatron. You had to leave to do that."

"Yes. You're right. I had to do that. I knew where he was. If I waited, he could have been gone," Cas draws his hand back and presses his head into it. "I can't...I can't do it again. Not yet."

"Tell me why not," Dean says.

"It's...I don't understand really," Cas looks down at the comforter, grappling for the right words,"Whenever I try to leave... the closer I get to the door, I...I relive things. They're not memories. They're more vivid than memories. They're more painful than memories. And they're..."

"Violent," Dean finishes, and Cas looks up at him in surprise. "How...?"

"Your Netflix Novacaine? It's not doing the whole job. You've been shaking, on and off, since I sat down. Knew something was off with you, but before now, didn't know what I was looking for."

"And now you do?" Cas sounds almost hopeful. Like he didn't realize there was an answer out there.

Dean doesn't think he's going to like the one he gets. "You know what PTSD is?"

Cas squints thoughtfully into the distance, and, right when Dean's about to explain, he says, "You think I'm suffering from a human mental illness?"

The thought had, clearly, never crossed his mind.

"Well, anxiety? Flashbacks? Withdrawal? It adds up." Cas raises his eyes again, and Dean rolls his. "Did my homework after Hell. Doesn't mean you should get advice from me on how to deal. My strategy for this stuff is usually to not to."

"Is that what you're doing with Amara?"

Dean blinks, because they were definitely not talking about him.

"She may have overpowered you. And I want to believe you, but you're not being completely honest."

Dean sucks in his breath, because Amara for Metatron. Cas needs his help. "Okay. Fine." He can do this. He has to do this. "She keeps telling me that I can't hurt her, that I'm not going to be able to hurt her, because we're 'bound.' Whatever the hell that means."

Cas nods thoughtfully, but he doesn't say anything. So Dean keeps going, "Thing is, she's right. I don't know how. I don't know why. But she is. I can't touch her... don't have a clue how we're going to stop her."

Cas' hand comes to rest on his shoulder. "I believe by helping each other."

Dean grins softly at that. "Okay. You're up. Flashbacks. What are they about?"

Cas looks down again, his eyes wandering back to the remote. He doesn't reach for it though, so Dean counts it as progress.

"You don't have to tell me you don't want to talk about it. I know you don't. I've been there. But, it'll help. Or so I've been told."

Cas stares contemplatively at the wall for several minutes before saying quietly, "Most of them are what I did, when I was under the spell. But the worst of it is reliving what I did to you and..."

He closes his eyes, "What you did to me."

And it's not like Dean thought it was water under the bridge or anything. Hell, he doesn't want it to be.

But knowing just how much of a mess Cas is because of him? Well...

It hurts.

And the worst part is, his first instinct, to help, is to put his hands on Cas. But isn't that exactly how they got here?

He opens them tentatively out to Cas before reaching for him. "This okay?"

"Of course, Dean. You don't need to ask."

"Yeah, I do." Dean pulls him into his chest and wraps his arms around him. And for several moments, the only sound is the bunker's ancient heater, and he screws up the courage to ask,"Can we fix this? Can we fix us?"

Part of him is afraid Cas will say 'no.' Part of him is afraid he'll say something stupid like 'of course' or 'it's not broken.'

But instead he says,"I hope so," before going thoughtfully silent. He looks down at the remote again before asking, "Do you think I can be fixed?"

"What? You? You're not broken," he reaches one hand back and squeezes Cas shoulder. "You're a mess, sure. But you ain't broken."

"That's not what Metatron said."

"Yeah, well, why would you listen to him? He ever said anything true to you? Come on, how many times he pulled the wool over your eyes now?"

Cas doesn't say anything, and, so, Dean says,"You're going to get better, okay, and I'm going to help."

Cas nods before tucking his head against Dean's shoulder, and Dean doesn't stop him. "Thank you. Really."


End file.
